High Princes of Tirion
by Nemis

Many thanks go to kalurien and Rose Red for beta/proofreading. I’d be lost without them.
For Rose Red, because of the nicely wrapped plotbunnies and this lovely story http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=1230558

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Chapter Twenty-Seven     Reasons

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Pulling his cloak closer around him, Ereinion sat down on the steps, realising too late how wet the stone had become during the damp night. Nevertheless, he stayed where he was. He would take this little inconvenience gladly.

The garden lay before him, dark green and awakening in the early morning. Blankly, he stared at the tree containing the now completed tree house he and Celebrimbor had built. His thoughts were not with the weeks he had spent here, building, but rather on another tree, and the strange urge which had possessed him to jump to that tree, knowing the depth beneath, but also knowing Celebriníel had been somewhere below. He remembered it well.

Such an urge had been his grandfather’s doom, taking Morgoth on himself.

And it had been part of his own first doom, though to a lesser extent, against a lesser darkness. He had known, beforehand, that he would not return from Mordor. And yet he went. Stayed there, on that damned plain, for all that time.

He did not feel well, but the morning cold made it better, fresh air against his face.

What had it been that had made him return from the Halls? What had it been that had made Celebrimbor decide to return? If this, these nightmares, lay in Celebrimbor’s future as well, what was he to tell the boy? They will never go away? At a point in time when he probably did not even understand the gist of what was in the dreams?

They would go away, he recalled his grandfather telling him.

But there was no exact point in time when this would happen. For all anyone knew these nightmares would still plague him after a thousand mortal years had passed. And his were much less grim than Celebrimbor’s were likely to be.

He placed an elbow on his knee and rested his head in his hand.

It was true, he had not been troubled with these nightmares for many years. As soon as he had learned how to keep them away, by mental exertion, they had only come sporadically, on those rare occasions when he forgot to protect himself.

You can make all things so very difficult, especially for yourself, Ereinion.

And then, unexpectedly, there were Anar’s rays, bright and beautiful, streaming onto his face, reflecting in thousands of watery dewdrops on leaves and blades of grass. Almost as if it was necessary to remind him of the splendour all around.

He heard the door behind him open, shortly before a hand was rested on his shoulder. Nerdanel looked down at him.

‘Are you well?’

He nodded.

‘Yes, yes I am.’

She glanced at his face a while longer, then sat down beside him, her skirts pooling around her.

‘I believe you had finished the tree house?’

An almost apologetic smile appeared on Ereinion’s face.

‘My sleep was troubled. I took a walk as to collect my thoughts and found myself here.’

Nerdanel placed an entreating hand on his arm.

‘You should speak with your mother of this. She has gone through the same with your father.’

Ereinion thoughtfully shook his head.

‘My mother... since I last spoke to her in earnest, much has changed in my life.’

‘And you can not speak to her of those changes?’

Ereinion made an affirming gesture.

‘Not yet.’ Looking at her frown, he sighed and looked away, plucking at the knee of his trousers. ‘For as long as I have been able to guard my mind, it did not matter, the images were there, as they would be with any other person, not threatening, just… memories. But when I accidentally lower this defence, all becomes so much darker, much more vivid. And the fact that…’ He shook his head, feeling miserable. ‘This could all very well have happened because of the time I spent with Celebrimbor. But somehow there was something, this night, just before it happened. It causes me to fear I shall have to choose between love and keeping these dreams away, and that I cannot have both.’

Both were silent for a while, their thoughts travelling elsewhere.

‘I have seen them all return,’ Nerdanel finally said. ‘And all of them had these moments. They did conquer them, Ereinion, and I do not believe any of them had to go without love to do so.’

The High Prince brought his hand to his head.

‘Yes, this is one of the factors which I constantly attempt to keep in mind.’

‘If Celebrimbor...’ Nerdanel began, but she seemed to change her mind mid-sentence. Looking at the Elf-lord, she continued in an enquiring tone. ‘Why did you come here? Is this not the last place where you would want to be?’

Waving his hand a little, Ereinion shook his head again.

‘I do not know.’

He sighed. That seemed to be the essence of everything, at the moment; he simply did not know. And a very disconcerting feeling it was.

The door behind them opened with a soft creak, and an Elf stepped out, hesitating somewhat before addressing Nerdanel, who turned at once.

‘A visitor, my Lady. Someone calling for the Lord Ereinion.’

‘Thank you, Tuaryon,’ she replied, before casting a questioning look at Ereinion, who had glanced over his shoulder at the mention of his name. It seemed too early for anyone to have noticed his absence. Too early for any kind of customary visitors as well.

‘Sometimes my duties simply do not leave me alone...’ he sighed, rising.

A moment later he was forced to swallow any other words he had been about to utter.

Slipping past the Elf who had announced her, pushing the door open further, Celebriníel stepped onto the terrace.

There was a distinct flush to be found on her cheeks, and her hair was loose in such a way that there could be no doubt of the wind having played through it while she had ridden here. He wanted to pronounce her name, wanted to ask her casually how she was, and why she was here, but he found he could not. He simply stood there, one foot placed on a higher step than the other, confronted with her questioning eyes.

Before he realised it, arms were around his neck, and he was returning her embrace, not understanding how she could be here, but glad for it nevertheless.

‘I am sorry,’ came her whisper near his ear.

‘Do not be,’ he returned, burying his face against her shoulder. ‘It was not your fault.’

He pushed away the melancholy that had previously preoccupied him, and concentrated on her physical presence, unexpectedly so close.

She smelled of the wind, of travel, of forests, of everything he missed while he resided in Tirion. And merely feeling her body pressed against him made all his worries vanish, so that nothing mattered but this, here, now.

Neither of them heard Nerdanel retreat, but when they slowly disentangled themselves, she had gone.

Celebriníel looked at him and started a waterfall of words.

‘I know I said to you I would not come. That we would not meet for a year. But I had to, I should not have come, I am aware of that, but I could not…’

With a small smile, and a shushing sound, Ereinion brought his hand up to her lips, only to have her embrace him again.

‘Coming here seems so silly now,’ she spoke softly against his shoulder.

‘Does it help if I say I do not regret it?’ he whispered back. ‘I am glad you came.’

Withdrawing, she smiled.

‘That does help.’

Ereinion’s eyes twinkled almost indiscernibly. ‘But you do risk making yourself a topic of discussion now.’

‘And what will they say about me, here in Tirion?’ she said with a smile, making it clear the matter was of little importance to her.

‘That you have inherited your father’s Maiar blood, and your mother’s face,’ he grinned.

Celebriníel gave the Elf-lord a playful poke between the ribs.

‘I shall tell my mother you said that.’

‘Do,’ he chuckled, before continuing. ‘And after that, they will wonder how I know you, and others will explain that I have spent much of my time at Imloth. And subsequently they will nod and say it is no wonder I care for you as much as I do.’

She looked up at him a moment, then blushed and averted her gaze.

‘They would guess?’

Tilting her head with his hand and meeting her eyes, he smiled.

‘It will not be much of a guess if you keep blushing like that.’

Silent for a few moments, Celebriníel finally shook her head.

‘I must return to Imloth again shortly.’

Ereinion frowned.

‘Why? I assume that you would be permitted to spend the night in Tirion if it was the Great Library you were to... Oh.’ His voice trailed off as he read the situation from her face. ‘At least you have spoken with your mother?’

Celebriníel shook her head.

‘The departure was rather... abrupt.’

‘You must send a message, then.’

She nodded.

Slowly, concern spread across Ereinion’s face.

‘You did not ride here alone?’

In a burst of relieved laughter, she shook her head.

‘Glorfindel came with me.’

‘He is here?’

‘Waiting inside, I trust.’

Keeping her hand in his, Ereinion folded her arm under his.

‘We shall go to your brother’s house, and send Elernil to Imloth. And then some refreshments will be in order, for I do not believe you have taken the time to breakfast. After that, I shall escort you back to your father’s house.’

‘You have meetings today, I believe?’ Celebriníel said softly.

‘I would not have gone,’ Ereinion stated. ‘I will not now.’ Pensively he looked down at her. ‘We... should speak to your parents.’

Nodding quietly, Celebriníel stared at her feet.

‘I think you are right.’ She looked up. ‘But perhaps we could wait a day. I do not believe my brother would mind if I stay with him.’

Ereinion shook his head with a smile.

‘Briníel,’ he began, stepping closer and moving some hair behind one of her ears. ‘I would enjoy it if you would stay in Tirion longer, but do not stay because you fear the reaction of your parents.’

Elrond’s permission, or rather any objection he might have, was foremost on her mind, much as it was on his. He needed to quieten his own apprehension about the matter as much as hers.

‘Even if it surprises him, if he does not approve, I will be there, with you, for as long as is asked of me,’ he added. ‘I shall not go anywhere, I will not leave your side. We can wait.’ He felt her bury her face against his shoulder and placed an arm around her, softly chuckling. ‘If it is required, I shall court you as long as your father deems fit.’

Glorfindel pensively fingered the sleeves of his tunic as he waited, seated in a comfortable chair in the hallway of Nerdanel’s house. He had been offered refreshments not long ago, but had declined. No doubt it would be indigestible, and lie in his stomach like a stone.

Not only was he now risking the wrath of Elrond, but he realised there was also Ereinion to consider. The High Prince might not be very happy with the young girl suddenly showing up where everyone could see her, and could see him. Things would be looked at with different eyes here in Tirion; much more scrutinising eyes.

First, after being informed Ereinion was not home, he and Celebriníel had ridden to Elrohir’s house, close by. There, Elrohir, only just awoken, had indicated several places where the High Prince could be, one of the locations mentioned being Nerdanel’s house. Seemingly the best guess, they had gone there first, and found the Elf-lord. But not without invading more people’s lives than could ever have been their intention, he thought.

Originally only Ereinion, then Elrohir and his family, and now Nerdanel also... All this because he had allowed Celebriníel to drag him along, no doubt with a whole range of consequences back home to follow.

Finally, the garden doors opened, and Celebriníel, Ereinion by her side, re-entered the house.

With a soft sigh of relief, Glorfindel noticed their hands linked together securely, fingers entwined, shoulders and arms brushing against each other.

At least I do not have to worry about Ereinion...

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Almarinde curiously caught the dark braid that hung just within her reach. Her eyes flashed up to the owner, but there came no reply, no warning, no larger fingers wrenching the hair from her smaller ones.

With a small sound of amusement, she stretched her arm out to her sister.

Almariel sat quietly, thumb in her mouth, fingering her ear.

Large eyes met her sister’s and she smiled acquiescingly.

Yes, she knew Daeradar was preoccupied, but no, that was no reason to take advantage of the situation.

The eldest of the two girls pouted and demonstratively began chewing on the braid. The younger made a movement which could almost be considered a shrug, and cuddled closer to her grandfather’s chest.

Absently, Elrond pulled her closer.

‘Dadar!’

The sudden volume of the exclamation made both Elrond and Almariel look at Almarinde, who grinned broadly due to their instantaneous attention.

Waving a hand in the air, she trampled her feet a little and looked up questioningly. ‘Briníel?’

‘I do not know where she is, my sweet,’ Elrond answered. He paused, before continuing in a whisper which was more to himself than to the small girl. ‘I suspect Briníel is in Tirion.’

Frowning, Almarinde looked at her feet.

Resting a little hand on his arm, Almariel looked up at her grandfather and smiled. Smiling as well, Elrond kissed her on the head and nodded.

‘Yes, I worry for naught.’

Just outside, there sounded footsteps, and three pairs of eyes focussed expectantly on the entrance, at Elladan, who it was that entered. He met his father’s hopeful look.

‘As you already know, two horses are gone from the stables, Glorfindel’s and Celebriníel’s. There is no note in either his or her room though. Unless Naneth has found anything.’

‘And where is your mother?’ Elrond replied brusquely, attempting to hide his disappointment.

‘Right here,’ Celebrían answered as she entered the chamber, gazing at some papers in her hand.

Handing Almarinde to Elladan, and settling Almariel on his arm, Elrond rose from the chair he had been seated in.

‘Well?’

Allowing a deep sigh to escape her lips, Celebrían met Elrond’s gaze.

‘I found nothing.’

As Elrond closed his eyes and tried to collect his thoughts, his granddaughter rested her head against his shoulder and took a loose hold of his tunic, staying as quiet as she could, suspecting there was nothing else she could do to comfort her grandfather.

Taking two steps at a time, Elernil ascended the stairs to the house, rubbing his hands together to make his fingers feel slightly warmer. The weather was fine, it was only on the open road that the wind was so much more raw and cold. Luckily the sun did its best to counter any chill the light wind could bring.

The main hall, when he entered it, was surprisingly empty, but he did not give it a second thought; most likely the household was assembled together either in his grandfather’s or grandmother’s chambers.

He whistled as he stepped into the library, and took yet another flight of steps to reach a higher floor. From there he noticed the door to his grandfather’s study was open, the rooms beyond empty of occupation. Turning on his heel he made for his grandmother’s chambers directly opposite the hall, finding the door equally wide open. He immediately distinguished Erestor’s quiet voice, evidently attempting to soothe a certain state of affairs. Halting in the doorway, the young Elf oversaw the room.

‘There is no prudence in riding off anywhere in haste, and you are well aware of it,’ Erestor added to his earlier words, while sitting on the armrest of an empty chair. Elladan stood nearby, his eldest daughter on his arm.

Elernil watched his grandfather standing by the window, his back toward the rest of the chamber, but clearly the one being addressed. He saw his youngest cousin looking over her grandfather’s shoulder, meeting his eyes directly.

With a gurgle she stretched out a hand and smiled at him, at which moment his grandfather turned, supposedly to reply to Erestor, but remaining quite silent at the sight of him.

His grandmother, standing together with Aurehen, smiled warmly.

‘Elernil, you must have ridden from Tirion quite early, to have arrived here at this time of day.’

Smiling, he caught the hand she extended to him.

‘I was lifted from my bed, and assigned with bringing you word of Celebriníel’s presence in Tirion as quickly as possible.’

An almost unnoticeable sigh went through the room, but Elrond’s voice cut through it, clear and serious.

‘And who sent you?’

‘Celebriníel herself,’ Elernil smiled, ‘though I believe Ereinion insisted on it.’

‘Did she say when she was to return?’ Celebrían asked, before Elrond had a chance to continue his interrogation.

‘I had to assure you she would return tomorrow, or the day after at the latest. I believe my parents and Ereinion intend to accompany her, and I was told to stay here until then, instead of returning to the city.’

Celebrían moved her hand to his shoulder.

‘Very well.’ She narrowed her eyes. ‘How much of a breakfast were you able to have before riding out?’

‘A small one,’ Elernil admitted with a grin.

‘I have no doubt Aurehen will see to it you receive something to sustain you until noon,’ Celebrían nodded, while looking back at the Elf-lady beside her, who answered with a complying smile. ‘Possibly there are others who wish to do the same,’ she added.

Elladan laughed and walked over to his father, holding out an arm for his other daughter.

‘Yes, indeed, for most of us did not get much of a breakfast either.’

As Elladan crossed the room and joined Elernil and Aurehen, Elrond turned to the window again.

Erestor gave Celebrían a questioning look, but she replied with a short shake of the head, which made him rise and join the others in departing. The door closed behind him with a discernable click.

Listening to the voices outside moving away and out of hearing range, Celebrían thought the silence in the room became yet more palpable. With Elrond already on tenterhooks, her grandson’s approach in bringing them this news might had not been the best approach she could think of. It was not difficult to guess how Elrond would interpret it.

‘El-nîn?’ she asked carefully, leaning back against her desk, folding her arms.

‘I do not wish to speak of this.’ Elrond remained facing the window.

‘Well, either you speak of it, or you will go and scowl someplace where I cannot see you,’ Celebrían remarked. ‘I understand your concern, but truly, Glorfindel went with her, we know where she is; it is not as if she has disappeared.’

Facing her with dark eyes, Elrond shook his head in disbelief.

‘Our daughter has left in the middle of the night, with no indication as to what her destination was. She is now in Tirion. She is not there to visit the Great Library. I have every reason to be worried.’

‘Oh, be logical, Elrond.’ Celebrían crossed the chamber to join him. ‘Even if she has gone there solely to see Ereinion, he will not suddenly elope with her.’

‘Hmm.’ Elrond shrugged, staring out of the window yet again.

Coming up next to him, Celebrían let out a sigh.

‘At this moment, he will treat her as what she is first and foremost.’ She caught Elrond’s hand. ‘His best friend’s daughter. You know how he is.’

His gaze still locked on something outside, Elrond did not move.

‘Indeed, I know very well how he is. That should indicate I am also thoroughly aware of how inconsistent he can be.’

Letting his hand slip from hers, Celebrían forced him to meet her eyes.

‘You do not mean that.’

Elrond tilted his head, meeting her gaze coldly.

‘I do not? Even though I have seen those inconsistencies, have heard of his qualms, his doubts in himself, his very being? It is true he is a great leader of people, and that he would do everything in his power to serve what he conceives as a good cause, but as a person? There are things I cannot hold against him as his friend, but those are the same matters I do not wish to see as traits of my daughter’s husband.’

‘Such as?’

He seemed to chuckle in exasperation.

‘If you had not noticed, he has not exactly proven any consistency in the few relationships he has had. The fact that the whole affair between him and Alian is still beyond anyone’s understanding only underlines this.’

‘You are being as inconsistent as you claim he is, even in a different manner,’ Celebrían commented dryly. ‘Not long ago, you said that if Celebriníel loved him, it was all that mattered. In Middle-earth, you would stare down anyone who would speak his name with what you considered to be too little respect. I know you are worried, but…’

‘He sends my own grandson to bring this news!’ Elrond exclaimed, moving away from the window and towards the centre of the room. ‘He sends Elernil to communicate Celebriníel is in Tirion. Staying with him.’

‘There was no such thing in the communication, and you know it,’ Celebrían replied, attempting to keep her irritation from taking over. Elrond seemed to ignore her.

‘Her brother is in Tirion. Why is he not...’

‘Undoubtedly Celebriníel is staying with Elrohir,’ Celebrían replied immediately. ‘It seems logical the message was relayed via Elernil; you cannot possibly draw any conclusions from that.’

Turning, Elrond looked at her intently.

‘She did not go to Tirion to visit Elrohir. I do not think she is staying with Elrohir.’

‘You seem to have come to that conclusion, but I have not,’ Celebrían said, shaking her head.

‘That is apparent,’ he replied, giving her a bitter stare.

Celebrían was astounded. She understood Elrond’s concern, and that he needed a way to expel his frustration. But she did not think she deserved this tone. And no one deserved to be the victim of premature assumptions.

‘I will not let you do this, Elrond.’

Raising an eyebrow, the Elf-lord seemed stunned.

‘Let me do this? What absurdness do you speak of?’

‘Ereinion does not deserve this. And you know it.’

‘I should think,’ Elrond started reprovingly, ‘that in this matter, it would not be Ereinion you should be worrying…’

‘I think my daughter can take very good care of herself,’ Celebrían snapped back. ‘Her father might want her to remain his little girl for the entire Fourth Age, meanwhile failing to recognise she has grown up to be a sensible and intelligent young lady, but I for one would allow her to be happy. I had to wait for you, and at the time, that seemed appropriate. But perhaps you have forgotten that it is custom among our people to marry young... Cannot, for once, a member of our family abide by this?’

Looking up from the ornate floor, Elrond’s eyes were even darker than before, if possible.

‘I suggest we cease this conversation. It seems moot, at this point,’ he remarked, his voice constrained. ‘I do not believe you are quite yourself.’ Then he prepared to turn, but Celebrían plainly refused to allow it.

In Middle-earth, this course of action had worked to end conversations with Dwarves, or Men, even Elves, she knew, but here, on Aman, with her, it would not. She would not permit him to simply turn away and cease to participate.

Clenching her hands into fists, she locked stares with her husband.

‘Turn from me now, Elrond Peredhil, and you shall find your bed very cold...’

The words startled them both, perhaps because it was the first time such words were spoken without even the slightest trace of jesting. Elrond remained where he was, half turned.

‘I...’ he started, then grew silent, bowing his head and closing his eyes.

Staring at him, Celebrían shook her head.

‘Why? Why does it have to be like this?’

Bringing a hand to his temple, as if a great ache had suddenly manifested itself there, he smiled weakly.

‘Because it seems to be all I can do at this time.’

Celebrían shook her head and averted her gaze, before crossing the chamber and stepping onto the balcony, where she sat down and rested back into the cushions of a bench, closing her eyes. Inside, she could hear Elrond pacing, but she paid it no heed, allowing herself to be swept away, keeping her thoughts to herself.

When she opened her eyes again, the pacing had gone, and she could say with more certainty than anything else that her chambers were empty, mirroring an emptiness within her, almost unbearable.

Closing her eyes, she tried to hold back the tears which were burning behind her eyelids.

In the end, it was of no use.

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Tuaryon: Quenya ‘turo’ (lord) and ‘aryon’ (heir)

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